Okay, so this is my first fanfic ever! happy dance I hope you like it, but if you don't, I understand…sometimes I hate it too. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but flames will be printed out, shown to my friends, and ridiculed for the next five years. One last thing…Collins/Angel Fluffy Land is my happy place…yay!
Disclaimer: If I owned RENT, I wouldn't be sitting here writing stupid fan fictions about it, I'd be partying it up with Wilson and Idina!
Allendale, New Jersey – a.k.a. Suburbia, USA. It was a small, upper middle class town, populated mostly by white Christians with a handful of other races thrown in for political correctness. Odd, really, that a place barely 45 minutes' drive from the diversity of New York City could be so bland, white bread, and generally intolerant. But such is life – and Tom Collins was beginning to question his own.
Sure, he was privileged, but what did he really have to treasure? His friends were the only solace he had from the monotonous life of an only child with high-paid corporate parents who usually left him well enough alone. He was smart and did well in school, but hardly enjoyed it; athletic, but not on any sports teams – Collins went through life on autopilot.
He just wished he could find his passion – his friends certainly had. Roger had his guitar, Maureen was a drama queen with a love for theater, and Mark's camera was practically an extension of his arm. The three of them had also staked out their respective opinions on dating: Mark longed for a relationship but was too shy to actually pursue one; Roger alternately pined for quiet Mimi and emo girl April; and Maureen pretty much flirted with anything, boy or girl, that had a pulse – especially the hyper-smart Joanne, whom Maureen had dubbed a "hot nerd." Collins, however, had never really had much interest in girls…yet another reason why he felt more distant with each passing day.
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It was a typical afternoon in the life of Brookside School eighth-graders. The four friends had just bid each other goodbye – it was sort of an unspoken agreement that they could split up and do their own thing at recess. Mark would smuggle his camera outside and do some filming, Maureen would head to her drama club meetings, Collins went to the library, and Roger…well, Roger skulked around doing God-knows-what. Collins stacked up his books and, for lack of anything better to do, prepared to study for math. He walked into the library and, clumsy mid-growth-spurt teenager that he was, promptly slammed into someone and knocked them to the ground.
"Oh, no, I'm so sorry!" Collins exclaimed, and knelt down to help the boy pick up his scattered belongings.
The boy looked up and gave Collins a small smile. "That's okay, it was probably my fault." There was no other way to describe it – this boy was beautiful. He had huge, chocolate brown eyes with long lashes, full lips, high cheekbones, and skin the color of brown sugar. "I'm Angel Dumott Schunard. I'm a new eighth-grader," he said in a soft, musical voice.
"Friends call me Collins. Tom Collins," he added as an afterthought. He wasn't sure why – half the people in the school didn't even know his first name. He could see the chipped-off remnants of glittery blue nail polish on Angel's fingers – and was that a smudge of eyeliner, or just a shadow? Collins immediately decided to get to know this new student. "Wanna come study with me?"
During the next twenty minutes, Collins told Angel a little bit about himself; he learned in return that Angel played the drums, had two older brothers, and was born in Puerto Rico but grew up in New York City. When the lunch bell rang, Collins asked, "Want to officially establish yourself as a loser by sitting with me and my friends?"
Angel smiled brightly and replied, "If all the losers are like you, I would be more than happy to." This remark, for some reason, caused Collins to blush. What is up with me today? he thought.